I, Superbiker

I went to my first ever film premiere in Leicester Square last night. Sadly, there was no sign of Penelope Cruz, Nicole Kidman or Cameron Diaz – instead the “stars” of the show were Josh Brookes, Tommy Hill, Gary Mason and James Ellison plus assorted bike journos and associated liggers. For this was the London premiere of I, Superbiker – a film based on the story of last year’s British Superbike Championship (a strange concept to get one’s head around, I grant you).

I, Superbiker apparently pays homage to the 1980 film Silver Dream Racer, which starred Hollywood megastar….erm….David Essex. Since there is no discernable story to the film, I’m not sure it does actually and Mrs Chairman Chegwin agrees (David Essex being a particular favourite of hers and she knows the original film well). Even the original bike – the Silver Dream Machine - was rebuilt from the box of bits it had turned into over the years and this was on display last night alongside the current victorious BMW1000RR (though frankly, it was like standing Bella Emberg alongside Pamela Anderson).

I’m not going to attempt any kind of review of the film because I’m still struggling to see the point of it all. In fact, it’s not even a film really – more an elongated review of the BSB season. This may be of passing interest to some but I suspect it won’t trouble the latest Harry Potter in terms of box office takings. It is not immediately apparent – at least to me - why this was deemed to be a good idea, but some people that were there last night seemed genuinely excited by it (despite already knowing the ending!). Others, including me, were bored s**tless. The words “straight to video” seem suitable here, somehow...

So let’s concentrate on the red carpet and who was there. Again, you had to look hard for real celebs. Happily for Mrs CC, her David was there, along with another hero of both of ours from yesteryear, Eddie Kidd (who seemed to take a shine to the missus). Personally, I was also very pleased to get to meet Dave Vanian (lead singer of The Damned) and Phil Collen (Def Leppard guitarist).

Keith Flint (the mad looking one from The Prodigy) was also supposed to be there but obviously had a better offer – such as a night in with a mug of Horlicks watching EastEnders - so that was about the extent of it (apart from the BSB riders of course).

Thankfully, I had imbibed a few nourishing pints of ale beforehand (and the missus a couple of glass of wine) so although not the social event of the year, an agreeable evening was had.